


Septiplier / SeptiePie / BroKen - One Shots / Short Stories.

by MonroseMeadows



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Broken, Gen, M/M, Multi, SeptiePie, Septiplier - Freeform, Short Stories, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:45:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 18,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonroseMeadows/pseuds/MonroseMeadows
Summary: A collection of one shots and short stories related to the Septiplier / SeptiePie and BroKen shipdoms.





	1. I knew you were happy, and so was I..

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. English is not my native tongue. Spelling errors might occur and sentence structure might be off here and there.  
> 2\. Don't be a stranger! Leave a comment / kudo - that would be greatly appreciated.

____I always watched you closely when you paced around the house. I could sense that your mind was fogged and clogged up with worries, but there wasn’t much that I could do to ease your mind. Other than showing affection and loyalty, I was rendered helpless. Motionless even, since you would tell me to stay put at all times. Naturally I’d obey your every command, it had become a second nature to me. You have taken me into your home and gave me a chance at a better life. That’s why I would never disobey, never even question your motives once.  
  
I always watched you closely when you dragged your suitcases down the steps, and placed them at the front door in a hurry. You couldn’t get dressed as quick as you would’ve wanted to, and I would bury my head into my pillow once you mouthed an impressive collection of swears. It startled me, as I was unable to understand their true meaning, but I was capable of sensing the frustration underlining those words. I would’ve loved to run towards you, and give you sloppy kisses, but I know you wouldn’t be in the mood for any of that. You would push me away and tell me to stay put, like you always do. And I obediently followed your orders.  
  
I would always keep an eye on the front door whenever you left for another one of your travels. The house always felt empty after your departure, and I couldn’t help but feel lonely at times. But I stayed put, and patiently awaited your return. All I could hope is that you would return shortly after. I loved to hear your voice call my name as you opened the door and tossed your bags aside. Calling my name again, this time more cheerful and with a more powerful tone of voice, my ears would  peak upwards. You called my name a third time, and once I heard you turn the lock on the door, I couldn’t contain myself. I had to greet you, I had to show how happy I was that you had finally returned home. Returned to me, so we could be together again.   
  
I would always keep an eye on you, when you got under the covers after a long and stressful day. I listened closely to your footsteps, and jumped on the bed excitedly when you patted the comforter. You would rest your head on the pillows, and put your glasses on the night stand with a relieved sigh. I knew you were very tired, and that you needed your rest. So I snuggle against your bend legs, resting my head on your abdomen. Laughing softly, you would pat my head gently. And I knew you were happy to have me around. And so was I.  
  
I always watched you closely when you paced around the house. Your voice was filled with happiness and contentment as you spoke into your phone. Your mind had been cleared from all of its clouds, and your worries seemed to have vanished completely. There was no longer any use for any of my concern, nor affection. You didn’t even have the time anymore, to tell me to stay put. Nonetheless I obediently abide by your rules. By now it had become a first nature to me.   
  
I always watched closely when you packed your bags, and placed them neatly at the front door.  You were no longer in a hurry, or at least not one that burdened you like previous travels would have in the past. I no longer heard a single swear rush past your lips, your voice never resounded as you gathered your clothes and got dressed.  
  
I would always keep an eye on the front door whenever you left for another on of your travels. The house always felt empty after your departure, but I had gotten used to it by now. Loneliness made room fort he knowledge that you would definitely return home. I loved to hear his voice call my name, when you opened the door and carried his bags inside. He would never call my name more than once, and I knew it was okay to run towards him, to shower him with sloppy kisses. You always smiled when I greeted him at the door, and I knew it made you happy that I showed how happy I was that you had finally brought him here again. Brought him back home, so the two of you could be together again.  
  
I would stay put when the two of you got under the covers after a long and stressful day boarding on and off air crafts. You would rest your head on the pillows, and put your glasses on the night stand with a relieved sigh. You were no longer as tired as you would’ve been in the past. He snuggled against you, resting his head in between your neck and torso. Laughing softly, you would pat his head gently. And I knew you were happy with him. And so was I.  
  
You turned off the lights and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. Then you called my names, and my ears peaked upwards.  
  
“Good night, Chica.”  
Your kind voice said to me.  
“Yeah, good night, Chica.”  
His voice followed shortly after.  
  
I knew you were happy with him, and so was I. 


	2. Trumpet Dick | PIG | Septiplier

"First girlfriend, what age and what base did she let you go?"  
  
Mark grinned, taking another sip of his beer. The sleazy motel room was dimly lit, and manner in which the light hit Sean's slender figure, sent the gloated grin present on his features, to terrifying depths and levels.  
  
"Lisa Michaels. We must've been around the same age, 14 or so .." The Korean wiped the corners of his mouth, drying the remainders of alcohol that dripped down his chin sloppily. "The furthest we've ever gotten in our, quote on quote relationship, was a couple of fingers and some licks. Innocent and prudish bitch, is what she was .."  
  
Sean chuckled, reaching his outstretched arm for the bottle within Mark's grasp. He chugged down some amounts of toxins slovenly, before he let his head fall back, against the bed's headboard. "Man, at least the shrew let you finger fuck her. I mean, fuck, the bitch even licked your sweat infested dick and ball sack.. Now that's worth some points. The first harlot I hooked up with didn't even let me cup her non-existing tits. Where's the fucking fun in that? Fuckin' slut .." He threw the empty bottle aside, rubbing a hand under his nose, and closing his eyes while emitting a sigh.  
  
Mark's laughed echoed through the torn up motel room. He ran a hand through his tangled excuse for hair, wriggling out of his oversized hoodie, and tossing it at the grumpy and slightly intoxicated Irishman. He dodged an incoming foot, dropped on all fours and crawled towards him. "Who needs bitches anyway?" He seated himself next to the man on the bed and put his hands on his own abdomen. "You have to pretend like you care about their pathetic illusion they call life. I mean, personality? Bitch, even if you were a comedian, that must've been the worst joke I ever heard someone crack.. In order to touch some tit or ass, we have to be deemed worthy. Fuck me .."  
  
Sean nodded approvingly, watching the collection of bracelets he wore around his slender wrist. Mark's cologne penetrated his nostrils, thus he turned his head to face his friend in profile view. "How many girls have you had? Judging by your looks, I bet you must've had a shit ton of pussy.." The green haired individual then frowned, as he shook his head. "On top of that, you're fucking Asian. In this day and age, what sick fuck doesn't have Asians on their bucket list?" A snort. Sarcasm in it's final form? Not likely. The Korean changed positions, so that his head was located on Sean's abdomen. Looking up into the man's hairy nostrils was a nasty consequence he had to deal with.  
  
"Not even a handful, my man. I've been the nerdiest, white, Asian kid in my school. Glasses, braces, emo hair.. I pranced around with a fucking trumpet because I had to compensate the fact that even if my dick was huge, nobody was likely gonna sit on it."  
  
Sean burst out laughing, clapping his hands like a 5-year old. "Not even Sarah Silvermann would go near your dick, me on the other hand had to bat away motherfucking Sarah Jessica Parkers.." Mark cracked up, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he kicked his feet. "Can we both just agree that women named Sarah are most likely trolls?"  
  
The Irishman nodded with a grin. "Solve these riddles three, and a monstrosity you will surely see." Mark sniffed, wiping some stray tears. "These bantling pussies ain't so tight, not even motherfucking Jeff Ross is eager to explore the insides."  
  
"For once I'd like to kiss someone that doesn't immediately arrange insurance on their goddamn body parts, like they're made out of gold, for crying out loud .."  
  
Sean nodded. "A tongue that has been places. Ya know .. A tongue that isn't easily dominated, man fuck this! Being dominant is sexy as fuck, what the fuck went wrong Japan?!"  
  
Mark grinned, grabbing a hold of the arm Sean had resting on his bent knee. "Does that include the skilled movements when sucking?"   
  
Another nod from the Irishman. His eyes widened when Mark took one of his fingers into his mouth and traced his hot, wet tongue up and down the digit. "Man .. the fuck.. are you doing?"  
  
The Korean released the man's finger with a 'plop'. "I just realized that we both want the same thing." He sat upright, moving his face closer to Sean's. "An experienced fuck buddy." He locked his dark eyes with Sean's lighter ones. Once it hit the Irishman, he devilish grin made another appearance. "Ya know what? Fuck it. Show me what you got,  ** _Trumpet Dick._** "


	3. Pitiful Creature | Antiseptiplier

"Bite me, you Chinese piece of shit."  
  
Dark chuckled into his hand.  
  
"Correction, my neon companion ; I'm a Korean piece of shit." His dark eyes traced the frown plastered on the Irish entity's face, his grin deepened upon the sight. "And I would  **gladly oblige**."  
  
Anti moved out of Dark's touches, hissing when he did. His pupils dilated, showing his forked teeth ever so slightly. "Don't come near me, I warn you!"  
  
The dark haired individual retreated his limbs, shifting his gaze to the enormous moon occupying most of the pitch black night sky. Anti was a peculiar entity, sometimes not worthy of the name 'personal demon'. Dark wasn't sure what kept them tied together, it got even more confusing due to Anti's unusual demeanour and odd antics.   
  
 _No, scratch that brain, those are the exact same thing. Urgh, I am losing my touch. Was it those which he had in common with his host? Odd antics .. unusual demeanour..? Pitiful that it had to be even asked. That which connects demon and host should be plain, dead straight and obvious. Mark and I share our impressive, but well kept hidden intelligence. And yet .. the moron isn't any the wiser of my presence._  
  
'"If you shy away from physical contact, what is it that you bring upon your host?"  
  
A set of vibrant green colored eyeballs shifted, and locked with a opaque pair. Anti was weary, hesitant even ..   
  
 _Trust issues, why would he keep the flaws he was supposed to ruin and scar his host with, to himself?_  
  
Dark shook his head once more.   
  
 _Pitiful creature .._  
  
"I am not obliged to answer your questions. Refrain from gathering information, which you have no right to obtain."  
  
A smirk pulled at the corners of Dark's mouth.   
  
"Very well then." He tossed an arm around Anti's slender, almost sickly frame, and brought his lips closer to the young man's ear. "To be quite honest with you, my friend .. You do not have to power to order me around, nor to make demands. As a matter of fact .." Anti flinched when a pointed tongue was dipped in his concha, causing him to squeeze his missing septic eye shut. "You are the figurehead of childlike innocence and wonder. Mind you me to inform you that I find such traits rather ..  _attractive_."  
  
The man with the green locks closed both eyes, emitting a screech before vanishing into thin air, to reappear on top of a bricked wall a few metres up ahead. Dark had to keep himself upright, seeing how he had been pretty much leaning against the Irish demon just now. In a catlike manner, Anti licked the back of his hand and rubbed it against his earlobe, in an attempt to either dry or remove Dark's lingering drops of spit. When Dark turned around to face him, Anti's pupils got smaller, almost pulled into slits, and he watched Dark closely. Almost like a deer caught in headlights.  
  
"Demons are known to be inappropriate, my child. You will adapt to our ways, it's only a matter of time. But until then .. Would you mind joining me?"  
  
The Korean man aimed his outstretched arm at Anti, a smile present on his, by shadows consumed, features.  
  
"I'll show you around. Get you accustomed to the surrounding beauty we call darkness. After all .. It is your first day outside of the tormented, tortured and weak mind of your host. This calls for a celebration.. And let's be honest, love. The more the merrier.. Four eyes see more than two ... And nobody likes to be alone, do they?"  
  
Anti jumped down and carefully placed his hand in Dark's. He nodded gingerly, never taking his eyes off Dark, nor breaking the eye contact he had with the man.  
  
Dark's grin deepened even more. "That's a good boy. Now come, I promise you, we'll have a grand time together. Believe you me, I  **never**  break my promises when darkness is involved."


	4. Insignificant Daisies | Antiseptiplier

'Those are pretty .." Anti whispered when his eyes found a field of daisies. A smile adorned his unshaven face, and Dark could only watch when he let go of his hand and ran towards the combination of luminous, vivid colors. The man watched the Irish demon squat down and gently touch the snow white petals, his vibrant blue eyes shimmering brightly. He seemed so intrigued, so fascinated and occupied by the simplistic beauty of an average natural phenomenon.   
  
 _Nature,_  Dark thought to himself as he kept a close eye on the green haired boy.  _It surrounds even us immortal beings, yet none of us, either mortal or immortal, are safe from its alluring appearance. Flowers .. a trivial Daisy.. A combination of whites, yellows and greens._  The stern, almost disgusted look in the Korean man's obscure eyes, softened upon his sudden realization.  
  
"Do you recognize yourself in these null .. " He cleared his throat, attempting to control the twitch present in his left eye. "These .. phenomena?" Anti's smile widened, unbarring his forked sets of teeth as he nodded in an affirming manner. His fingertips caress the painted yellow flower buds. He then turned to the dark haired entity, seemingly genuinely prosperous.   
  
"They are fragile, yet they occur in large quantities. They are equal to one another, yet unique at the same time.." The Irishman locked eyes with Dark for a split second, for the eye contact to be broken shortly after.   
  
Dark could have sworn he saw Anti's pupils discolor, the positive blue and greens into a negative shade of black. The occurrence only lasted for a number of seconds, after which the green haired man squeezed his eyes shut, grasping his head with both hands, hissing almost beast like.   
  
"Anti ..?"   
  
The Irishman screeched even louder, clawing at his face as he lost balance and fell face down into the grassy patches near him.  
  
"What ever is the matter with you, Antiseptic?"  
  
Dark took a few careful steps back when Anti got back on his feet. He watched closely as the Irishman wiped the trails of leaking blood off of his face, a grin creeping over his small lips. He bent down, picked the one Daisy that found his fancy, and handed it to the suspicious Korean demon.  
  
"Especially for you, my Asian demon overlord."  
  
Dark eyed the flower within the palm of his hand for a moment, for his gaze to trace back to the neon haired demon.  
  
"What is the occasion, my bipolar love?"  
  
Anti only smirked. "No reason, Dark. A token of my gratitude."  
  
Dark dropped the white flower on the grassy patch, trampling the delicate inanimate creature underneath the sole of his sneaker. His grin now matched Anti's.   
  
"Much appreciated, darling. But insignificant and above all trivial objects like these hold no meaning to me. I must encourage you to try again. Hopefully your following attempt will pay off more successfully."


	5. Lost in a loss | Septiplier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one I will post both in the English translation, and the original version that I wrote in Dutch.  
> So for you Europeans out there, have at it!

A set of dark eyes peered from behind two burgundy colored drapes. The night sky equalled a dark canvas filled with dozens of tiny points of light. Not a single sound is heard in the fore- or background. And the deafening silence was regarded as suffocating by the owner of the pair of eyes. How is it possible to find yourself in a collection of monotonous shades? A moment of inner peace faded. Questions were formed in the mind of the mentally exhausted man. They flooded the depths of his stressed brain and dragged all vestiges of self-knowledge and happiness along with them. Not a chance, obviously they met their end in a drowning.   
  
 _"I want you to know that I'm especially grateful that you decided to come here. I know that Ireland isn't exactly around the corner.."  
  
"Don't mention it, Mark. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I'd like to see us as close friends by now, and friends move heaven and earth to help each other, don't they?"_  
  
Mark was no stranger to the experience of a loss. But despite his knowledge on this and knowledge on the process of grief in which he would have to plunge himself, this one came so suddenly that it robbed him of the necessary time to form an appropriate response. Yesterday was still clearly etched in his memory. Today was close to changing into the unknown, and tomorrow caused him unfathomable fears. Each passing day confused him to the very core of his wounded soul. He had previously spent the biggest part of his life in solitude. Suddenly many familiar faces surrounded him. Without fuss they would become a major a part of his life. He agreed to it, since it'd eventually play in his favor. Thereof was no doubt. But familiar faces are not always identical to the much-needed help which he subconsciously yearned.  
  
 _"You really like the stars, don't you?"  
  
"I do. I always have, ever since I was a child to be honest. Space fascinates me, there is still so much left to be explored. To think that this black canvas holds so many secrets from us, aspects of our being and the world that we live in.. And most of it will be left untouched, as it will be impossible to capture all of its beauty .."  
  
"The idea of not knowing all there is to know, is kind of absorbing. But .. I don't think that we need to know everything. I mean .. leave something for us to ponder on .. Something left to our imagination. That's the beauty of mystery."  
  
"I suppose you are right. There are certain aspects of life that humanity should leave untouched. In the name of their sanity remaining clear."_  
  
The less we know, the less questions we ask. At the same time, the thirst for knowledge is unstoppable. The more knowledge we acquire, the greater hunger for it will become. Humanity will always ask questions, amount unknown areas and seek that which has remained hidden over the years of evolution. The more one knows, the more one fears .. The less one knows, the happier one is. I have no idea whether this analogy even truthful. I can be only speculate and form a certain idea of it ..  
  
 _"Honor him in your own way, Mark. But don't dishonor yourself while doing it."  
  
"It will heal over time, of that I am sure. It's the actual grieving process that blurs the lines of actual recuperation .."  
  
"Just .. don't lose yourself as well. Once you lose yourself, it's a bitch to find yourself again .. Trust me."  
  
"Once I go astray, I'll know that I can count on you and the other guys to lead me back to the right path. I worry as much about my own sanity as much as any other, so don't worry too much. Besides .. I'm Asian. I'll never get lost."_  
  
_________________________________________  
 **Dutch version. | The original version |**  
  
Een set van donkere ogen keek van achter twee bordeaux gekleurde gordijnen. De nachtelijke hemel evenaarde een donker canvas, gevuld met tientallen kleine lichtpuntjes. Geen enkel geluid hoorbaar in de voor- of achtergrond. En de oorverdovende stilte werd als verstikkend beschouwd door de eigenaar van het paar ogen. Hoe is het mogelijk om jezelf te vinden in een verzameling van monotone tinten? Een moment van innerlijke rust vervaagd. Vragen werden gevormd in de geest van de geestelijk uitgeputte man. Ze overstroomde de diepten van zijn gestresseerde brein en sleurde alle overblijfselen van zelfkennis en geluk met zich mee. Geen schijn van kans, uiteraard ontmoetten zij hun einde in een bloedstollende verdinkingsdood.  
  
 _"Ik wil dat je weet dat ik uitermate dankbaar ben dat je hebt besloten om hierheen te komen. Ik weet dat Ierland niet precies om de hoek is .."  
  
"Geen dank, Mark. Wanhopige tijden vragen om wanhopige maatregelen. Ik zou ons graag zien als goede vrienden op dit moment, en vrienden verzetten hemel en aarde om elkaar te helpen, nietwaar?"_  
  
Mark was geen onbekende voor de ervaring van een verlies. Maar ondanks zijn kennis over dit gegeven en de kennis over het proces van verwerking waarin hij zich zou moeten storten, dit verlies kwam zo plotseling dat het hem beroofde van de nodige tijd om een passende reactie te vormen. Gisteren stond nog glashelder in zijn geheugen gegrift. Vandaag was dicht bij het veranderen in het onbekende, en morgen boezemde hem ondoorgrondelijk angsten in. Elke voorbijgaande dag bracht hem zodanig in de war, tot in de kern van zijn gewonde ziel. Hij had het grootste deel van zijn leven in eenzaamheid doorgebracht. Plotseling omgringden vele bekende gezichten hem. Zonder poespas zouden ze een groot deel van zijn leven uitmaken. Hij stemde ermee in, omdat het uiteindelijk zou spelen in zijn voordeel. Daarover was geen twijfel. Maar bekende gezichten zijn niet altijd gelijkaardig aan de broodnodige hulp waarnaar hij onbewust verlangde.  
  
 _"Je houdt echt van de sterren, nietwaar?"  
  
"Dat doe ik inderdaad. Altijd gedaan, van kindsbeen aan om eerlijk te zijn. De ruimte fascineert me, er is nog zo veel meer dat moet worden onderzocht. Om te denken dat dit zwarte canvas zo veel geheimen voor ons achterhoudt, aspecten van ons wezen en de wereld waarin wij leven .. En het grootste deel hiervan zal ongemoeid gelaten worden, omdat het onmogelijk zal zijn om al haar schoonheid vast te leggen .. "  
  
"Het idee van het niet alles weten wat er te weten valt, is soort van absorberend. Maar .. ik denk niet dat we alles moeten weten. Ik bedoel .. Geef ons iets om na te denken .. Iets dat spreekt tot de verbeelding . Dat is het mooie van het mysterie. "  
  
"Ik veronderstel dat je gelijk hebt. Er zijn bepaalde aspecten van het leven die de mensheid onaangeroerd zou moeten laten. In de naam van hun gezond verstand helder te houden."_  
  
Des te minder we weten, des te minder vragen die we stellen. Op hetzelfde moment is de dorst naar kennis niet te stoppen. Des te meer kennis die we verwerven, des te groter de honger wordt. De mensheid zal altijd vragen blijven stellen, onbekende terreinen betreden en verkennen, en zoeken naar datgene dat verborgen bleef doorheen de jaren van evolutie. Des te meer men weet, des te meer men vreest .. Des te minder men weet, des te gelukkiger men is. Ik heb geen idee of deze analogie zelfs waarheidsgetrouw is. Ik kan alleen maar te speculeren en hierover een bepaald idee vormen ..  
  
 _"Eer hem op je eigen manier, Mark. Maar onteer jezelf niet in dat proces."_  
  
"Het zal genezen na verloop van tijd, daar ben ik zeker van. Het is het eigenlijke rouwproces dat de lijnen van het werkelijke herstel vervaagt .."  
  
"Het is enkel .. verlies jezelf niet. Als je jezelf verliest, het is een bitch om jezelf terug te vinden .. Geloof me."  
  
"Zodra ik verdwaal, dan weet ik dat ik kan rekenen op de hulp van jou en de andere jongens om me terug te leiden naar het rechte pad. Ik maak me evenveel zorgen over mijn eigen geestelijke gezondheid als zovele anderen, dus maak je niet teveel zorgen. Bovendien .. ik ben Aziatisch, ik zal nooit verdwalen."


	6. Handsome fella in an ugly sweater | Septiplier

"You look horrible in that jumper!" Sean spoke, laughing as he brought his hand up to cover the grin spreading on his lips. Through squinted eyes, he watched Mark fidget with his sleeves - his eyes gliding over the bright red fabric. His brows seemed to be all over the place, rising and dropping within mere seconds, for them to lower eventually and add to the sulking expression now plastered on the Korean man's face. "Shut up, you Irish bastard. I do not. I'll have you know that I am Markiplier, and Markiplier looks handsome, smart and extremely strong and muscular in everything he wears." Yet upon hearing the green haired man's snickers echo through his speakers, his lips were pressed together firmly. He knew all too well that the typical Christmas attire wasn't exactly something he could pull off well - as strange as that might sound, since he was known for his online persona  _Santaplier_ , which made yearly appearances on his channel during the holiday season. All the while Sean looked adorable in about anything he'd put on, including that black and white, reindeer and snow-pattern laced Christmas sweater he had worn in his videos two years prior. Naturally, Mark wanted his ego to be petted a little, despite his knowledge that the usual flattering enticement that shrouded him when he'd wear short cropped Tees or tank tops, was no match for Sean's born-with Irish cuteness. Heck, and he had even spent a good 20 bucks on this sweater - And here he was, being called ridiculous by said Irish cutie. Damn him and his green hair..  
  
Sean's chuckles died down a little, yet that sly grin remained present on the corners of his mouth, shrouding his cheeks in sharp lined shadows. "But yer a handsome feller in an ugly jumper." He spoke in between giggles, before disappearing from Mark's computer monitor. The dark haired Youtuber shielded his mouth with a hand, preventing the escaping yawn from being noticed. Even if Sean wasn't even nearby. His eyes drifted to the numbers in the lower right corner of his screen, inducing another stifled yawn to make itself heard, rather than seen. It had been 4:12 in the morning, which meant it was around 8 in Ireland - not that Mark minded having to sacrifice his much needed slumber. " **Tadaaa ! ~**  " As he heard Sean's cheerful chant resound again, and having witnessed a flash of bright pink dash across Sean's screen on their Skype conversation window, the Korean straightened his back, then slumped back down into his desk chair. There he was. Sean McLoughlin, covered in a slightly oversized, neon pink - or was it fuchsia? Maybe lingering more toward a lively magenta? - Christmas sweater. The chest area was ornamented with the most appalling reindeer and snowmen. The sleeves covered in tiny white lines that showed some sort of circular object protruding from the wool. And yet .. despite how horrifically unappealing and absolutely ludicrous the item of clothing was, in some unexplainable fashion, it suited him. It suited this Irish bastard and he got away with it. Sean snickered when he caught the utterly speechless state of his American friend, and reached up for the sleeves with his hand. "Look. Not only is it ugly as all hell, there's more!" And with the flick of his wrists, a collection of tiny lights sprung to life, running from his shoulders, all the way down to the end of the sleeves. Mark just sat there, dumbfounded, unable to comprehend what he had just now seen, unable to piece together a fitting reaction to this monstrosity that one sold and bought in the name of a Christmas sweater.  
  
And then it all clicked. Mark's lips curved into a smile, and with a swift motion he had pushed his hair back. His dark eyes locked with Sean's lighter ones, as the green haired troll awaited his answer.   
  
"You look horrible in that sweater!" He shook his head with a smile, rubbing his hands together as he looked away.  
  
"But in the end, it's still a handsome fella in an ugly sweater."


	7. Saint Nick | Septiplier

_I couldn't believe it. I had to see this shit first hand to actually believe this was really happening.._  
  
A pair of blue eyes traced the build up of Saint Nick's house in the center of the city mall. A mesh of people, limbs and appliances moving around sporadically - occasional swears muttered under their breaths as some planks of wood refused the stand upright or attach themselves in a proper fashion. The man shook his head with an unforgiving sigh, then shook a sip of his latte. Mothers prancing around with shopping bags, their children tugging their arms every now and then, in an attempt to get the woman to shift her attention to the many, unnecessary toy stores surrounding them. He shifted in his seat, unable to un hear the collection of outdated Christmas carols playing on a constant loop. There was no escaping them, you'd think that by simply exiting a building, you'd be safe, but this couldn't be further from the truth. They haunted you on the streets, on your car radio, on your TV and even in your online existence. And if that wasn't enough to fret over, Mark happily sang along as he decorated his shared house.   
  
 _Henry Ashworth was the guy's name .. - The original mall Santa. At his 53 years of age, you'd think that he'd be sick and tired of it by now. Yet, with 20 years of experience up his sleeve, he wasn't easily thrown to the side, nor replaced. The funny thing was that the guy despised children with a fiery passion, but the pay made it worth his time and patience. But it had to have happened eventually, the bastard would've gotten sick or called to meet up his family, or something - anything to keep him from doing his yearly duties in this overly crowded and overly lit up shopping mall._  
  
"Alright, that took a little longer than expected. My apologies, kiddo." A tall, bearded man slumped down on the empty chair across from Sean - placing the plastic cup on the table top and taking the lit off. With his right hand he stirred the tiny, impracticable, plastic spoon through the warm liquid, while scrolling through the messages on his phone with the other. Sean simply nodded shortly, before turning his attention back to the rise of Saint Nick's house. It seemed like the frame was pulled up and stood strong - to the relief of the employees circling it from different angles. "It's too bad setting things on fire is a crime.." He muttered under his breath, then brought his cup of latte up to his lips to take a careful sip. Kenneth's dark eyes drifted up for a split second, catching Sean's icy blue ones - and the man cracked into a chuckle. "Not only is it a crime, it's also an illness." The bearded man locked his screen and threw the plastic spoon aside. "Besides, do you have any idea how many tears would be shed if you lit up Santa's house?"   
  
\- - - -   
  
"What the .."   
  
As Sean closed the door behind him, he was greeted by a trail of plastic that led him to the kitchen area. That's when his breath hitched for a moment, and his eyes grew big.   
"And? What do you think? Pretty neat, huh?"  
  
 _If it wasn't illegal to beat up people for fun, I'd be having a field day with this one, let me tell you.._  
  
Sean's bushy brows dropped instantly upon taking a closer look at his Korean friend in disguise. His broad frame was covered in a bright red fabric, laced with a furry white on the edges and middle. His pale skin hidden behind a long, thick and curly white beard, and some small strands of his night black hair peaking from under the red, woolen hat. His cheeks raised and rounded due to the jolly smile present on his lips. Sean felt like he might pass out any moment, thus threw himself on a nearby chair for support. Mark, on the other hand, merely laughed. "Mr. Ashworth fell ill, and I saw the vacancy in the mall this morning - so, naturally I applied and tada!" The man spun around, the pointy end of the Christmas hat and the white bears circling him in the motion.   
  
"You have got to be kidding me .." Sean spat, rubbing his temples in disbelief.  
  
"My shift starts next week. It's 2 to 7 hour days, and I get free food and beverages during my employment this month."  
  
 _I had to see it to believe it .. And yet, I wish I'd never seen it._  
  
\- - - - - - -   
  
Kenneth watched the intense line of children and parents standing near Saint Nick's house, in the center of the shopping mall. Mark did surprisingly well - he'd let the children sit on his lap, tell him what it was that they wanted for Christmas, gave his Helping Elves the order to hand the children some candy and moved on to the next one. And despite the fact that he cleared through the lines pretty quickly, it never seemed to stop forming. It was a never ending loop of faces, dreams and wishes. When he turned back to his green haired friend, he cleared his throat with a chuckle. "Why don't you go sit on Santa's lap? Maybe if you ask him to stop, he'll listen. He has to in the end - he's Santa, after all."   
Sean straightened his back immediately, his eyes lit with a mischievous spark. "That sounds stupid enough to work .."   
  
\- - -   
  
"Okay, close the lines. These kids are the last ones for the day."   
Mark gave the mall employee a nod of the head, then readjusted his hat and beard one final time. He was burning up in the costume, and even though he enjoyed the temporary job, and enjoyed the interaction with these children - he couldn't deny anticipating the end of his shift, and the long, cold shower that awaited him at home. That was if neither Ryan or Matt had hogged the shower, which was a likely possibility since both men worked their asses off during the holiday seasons.   
  
The first few children were no biggie, no stretch of abilities - just the usual popular toys on demand that had caught their big, innocent eyes - and the usual bag of candy they happily wrapped their tiny fingers around. Then there were the older kids, which were easily dealt with, since all they really wanted was the candy they received at the end of the encounter. At last there were the teens, who only dared to go near Mark for the thrill and the amusement of their friends. Mark noticed a final hand signal from the very same mall employee, informing him that whatever was left standing in line, would be the last for the day. Then he could finally go home and take off this bear - this thing had been itching him through out the entire day .. He couldn't wait to take it off and lay it aside.  
  
"Okay, last one. Start close up shop."   
  
Mark readjusted his hat, belt and beard one final time. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the Helping Elves clean up some of the stray candy wrappers thrown about on the polished floors, and he could've sworn he heard someone actually turn the old school cassette tape around in the tape recorder, shortly followed by yet another loop of Christmas Carols. In the back of his mind, his shower awaited him with open arms..  
  
"Hi Santa."  
  
A familiar voice spoke to him, and upon taking a closer look, Mark recognized the black beanie worn by the tall, yet slender built figure. The man took a few steps closer, before promptly lowering himself on Mark's lap.   
  
"Ho ho ho, son. How are you doing?"  
  
Sean's grin deepened and he threw his arm around Mark's neck, resting it on the chair's back support. "I'm doing better now." All Mark could do was keep his posture, there were still people wandering around in the mall, and that included children.  
  
"Have you been a good boy this year?"   
  
Sean leaned in closer, his lips only a couple of inches way from Mark's reddened earlobe.  
"I'm sad to say that I have not."  
  
Mark flinched. "I-Is that right? How come?"  
  
"You see, Santa.. I have this boyfriend and he has been rather .. busy lately. So, I miss him a lot. And since he's no longer around, I do things.."  
  
"D-Do things? What kind of things?"  
  
Sean leaned in a little closer and caressed the back of Mark's neck with his fingers.  
"I touch myself in bad places."  
  
"Wha.. What kind of.. p-places?"  
  
The Irishman took Mark's hand and placed it in his lap, never breaking the intense eye contact with the bearded man. "Here. My boyfriend usually touches me here, but because he's so busy.. I have to do it myself. And it's not as nice when I do it. He does it way better.."  
  
Mark's eyes shifted to the Helping Elves and the sprawled about mall employees wandering around Santa's house, in the hopes that neither of them saw this horror on display. He quickly removed his hand from its position in Sean's lap and frowned. "Sean .. Not now! I'm at work! I'll be done in a few and then you can come over!"   
  
Sean leaned back, a feigned pout carved on his lips. He grabbed Mark's hand and intertwined their fingers. "But Santa .. There's only one thing I want for Christmas." He moved their hands down the red vest Mark was wearing, making sure to touch the soft fabric along the way. Mark sucked in some surprised yelps, his eyes darting around. "What is that?"  
Again, Sean leaned in closer - pressing his lips against the older man's ear and whispered. Instantly, Mark squealed, pushing Sean away and jerking his hand free from his smaller one.   
  
"That's all I want, Santa. Please?"   
  
"Not now! I'm at work!"  
  
"I'll use my tongue this time."  
  
Mark's eyes grew big, and at that time the mall employee gestured toward Mark. "That's a wrap. Thank you for your hard work, we'll see you back here tomorrow morning. Happy holidays everyone!"  
  
Sean just stood there. Arms crossed, and his lips pulled into a sly grin. He knew how to push Mark's buttons all too well. "Well?" Mark looked around yet again, only to make sure. There were no people around. The Helping Elves seemed to have retreated, the mall employees were closing the stores and the loop of Christmas Carols had come to an abrupt stop. The Korean breathed out a sigh. "Fine then."  
  
He grabbed the Irishman by the arm and dragged him into Saint Nick's house. "Keep your mouth shut for now .. In about 40 minutes this place is abandoned."  
  
Sean just giggled underneath the collection of ornaments and the sounds of echoing footsteps in the distance. "Thanks Santa."


	8. Keep it down a Notch | Septiplier

Ever so gently, the door handle was pushed down, the swinging motion followed by the moaning hinges in their wake. The hallway seemed deserted, with only a handful of lines of light filtering through the small openings in the fabric blinds. He turned his head back toward the sleeping frame lying in the bed, covered in a messy compilation of sheets and baggy pieces of clothing. Soft snoring was heard, accompanied by the heaving of his broad chest. Almost rhythmical, almost soothing. Red strands of messy hair sprawled about across his face, his mouth slightly agape. He smiled at the sight, shaking his head softly, then pulled the door shut behind him. Birds chirped away outside, their morning lullaby not exactly appreciated by all. Lone cars hummed as they passed the neighborhood, leaving a soft breath behind. A breath that barely overpowered the footsteps that tiptoed through the hallway. Down the stairs they went, carefully, precise, precious. The living room still showed obvious signs of the Christmas dinner the night prior. Empty cans of beer were stacked on the coffee table, complete with some stray candy wrappers and leftover biscuits on a lonesome plate. Ryan clearly forgot to turn off the lights in the Christmas tree, as they shone brightly and continued their flickering pattern - lighting up the messy living room in a frantic fashion. As he continued his way through the living room, he picked up some of the empty cans and wrappers, to deposit them in the bin under the sink, in the kitchen. Once there, he flicked on the light switch, illuminating his surroundings with a sudden, yet forceful blast of UV light. In response, he blinked a few times in order to let his eyes adjust to the sudden increase in light.  
  
Once the coffeemaker was up and running, he decided to set the table. The plates and cutlerly first, then the glasses and mugs. Followed by placing some slices of bread in the designated wooden basket, and the toppings. And last but not least, the fruit basket, pots of low-fat yoghurt, cereal, sugar and milk. Once the table was set, he filled his mug with some freshly made coffee and took a few steps back to take in the sight. The sight of the piled up dishes in the kitchen sink, threw him off, but it was something that had to wait. After all, he had been slaving away with Mark over the dinner, so it only seemed fair to let Ryan fret over the dishes and cleaning whatever remained from the night prior. He walked over to the old-timer radio placed in the corner of the kitchen counters and switched it on, quickly turning the volume knob to ensure no heart-attacks would arise. With the soft hums of the radio host and the intervals of random songs, Sean seated himself at the kitchen table, swiftly browsing through the storm of comments on his social media accounts. The majority consisted out of holiday wishes, photo's of friends celebrating with family and friends and the occasional bullshit that laced the internet. Chica sniffed her way into the kitchen, jumping up at the man's side and excitedly pressing her nose into his face. Chuckling, the green haired individual petted the happy Labrador, before pushing her down. "That's enough, girl." His head darted upward, finding the empty bowls in the corner of the room, and with a shaking head, he got up to refill both. "There ya go, girl. Dig in." After which the large canine thankfully dug her face into the heap of dog food.   
  
Shuffling footsteps neared the kitchen, along with a powerful yawn and big hands coming through a head of bright red hair. Through heavy eyelids, he greeted the faint drop of green that greeted him from the kitchen table. "Morn.." He mumbled sleepily, seating himself across from the younger male and pushing his tangled hair back. Sean eagerly filled him a cup of coffee and handed it over with a warm smile. "You sleep well?" Mark brought the mug up to his lips, sipping it carefully as to not burn his lips, then nodded as he held the mug in both hands again. "You're like a ninja. I didn't even hear you sneak out of my room. Have you been up for long?" Sean shook his head, putting his phone away. "Not so long. But I figured I might as well let you sleep a little longer, since you've made the food and all." With a chuckle, Mark shook his head as he rested his arms on the table top. "So have you. That's no excuse for letting me slum and bum." The Korean male said with a smile, running his short cropped fingernails through Chica's thick, blonde fur. Sean simply shrugged his shoulders, ready to return to his finger play on his phone, when an energetic voice greeted both men in the doorway. Upon looking up, both recognized the stranger as Mark's room mate, Ryan. The man sauntered through the kitchen, tugging on Chica's ears playfully, before seating himself next to Mark at the table, and throwing two slices of bread on his plate. "I see the two of you celebrated the end of the year in advance." He snickered as he ran his fingers through the variety of toppings on display. Both Mark and Sean exchanged a look, before returning their attention to the loonier gentleman.   
  
When silence had taken over the room, Ryan looked up from the preparation of his break fast. "You guys were loud. Sex .. ? You had some loud sex, is what I'm trying to say." He dug his teeth in the bread, nibbling with joy filled eyes, as he looked at both men and the perplexed expressions on their faces. Yet he was not yet sure whether they now felt caught in the act, or simply embarrassed that someone knew they fucked. Mark shifted in his seat, taking another sip of his coffee, all the while Sean just fidgeted with his collection of bracelets.Ryan just sat there, snickering, all while at the same time calmly enjoying his breakfast. "It's fine, though. Don't mind me. Just try to keep it down a notch next time." 


	9. Big Doofs | Septiplier

He just stood there. Gawking at the impressive and somewhat irritating cue that had formed at the airport. Behind his back, he heard the terrorising and demanding screams of a restless child, a few heads ahead of him a couple's quirrel about having forgotten half of their luggage. An older lady stood directly infront of him, duffled in nice and warm with a black colored, fluffy wintercoat that seemed to consume her entire upper body. Her wrinkled face well hidden behind a thick woolen scarf, and a brown, leather bag clutched in her hands. Every once in a while she'd turn to greet Mark with a gentle smile, taking a step forward when the line progressed. At least he could unwind by mentally singing along with the Christmas Carols that played on a constant loop.  
  
He hopped from one leg to the other, looking down the side of the line to see if it has shortened yet or not quite. The young man standing behind him, cracking an understanding and somewhat amused smile each time. He musn't have been that much older, perhaps by a year or two. Messy strands of his chest nut colored hear peaking from underneath the rim of his drooping winter beanie. Two children were fighting over the GameBoy one of their parents had handed them, in the hopes of keeping them silent. Yet the opposite effect was brought about, as both children kept kicking and screaming at each other. He breathed out a combination of both a sigh and a grunt, when he saw an older man yap away at the check in. And those fucking looping Christmas Carols weren't helping in the least!  
  
Mark shoved his bag into the cabinet above his assigned seat, flashing a warm smile when a younger girl passed him in the tiny passageway. He wiped some beads of sweat from his rippled forehead, only to be asked to remain put by a nearing voice. A young man raced down the hall, close to parcouring through, above, beyond and next to the lined up plane chairs. With a croocked smile, he walked under Mark's muscular arm, only to throw himself in the chair closest to the hallway. Mark just smiled and took his seat by the window. As he let his gaze wander outside, he remembered thinking about trading in his current playground for new grounds. And he hoped he wouldn't feel a pinch of remorse upon his arrival on said grounds.   
  
Sean looked a few meters up ahead. Nothing but bickering kids, judgmental eyes and smothered conversations held by elderly people, caught his eye. As he walked down the narrow path, he dragged his duffle bag behind him. As he reached the end of the first cabinet, a pair of familar eyes greeted him with a faint shimmer, as they looked up from the brightly lit screen of his expensive phone. Sean knew he had no better option at hand, it was either seating with this friendly-looking stranger, or fret over some impatient and spoiled brat kicking the back of his chair for over 8 hours straight. He sat himself down, his bag kept between his feet on the floor. The stranger smiled at him before returning to the phone held in his hand, that he was surely told to put away once the plane was ready for take off.   
  
Mark awoke to the soft touch of a hand on his bicep, rousing him from his sleep. With tiny eyes and a muffled yawn escaping his lips, he straightened his back and rotated his head from the right to the left. The sky had turned pitch black and the dim glow from the falling snowflakes caught his eye. The man sitting next to him was already buttoning up his winter jacket, mere moments before getting up and nodding to Mark one final time. Still somewhat sleep induced, Mark jumped out of his seat, grabbed his bag and made his way through the anthil of passengers making their way to the exit of the plane. Once he stood outside, he glanced up at the gigantic plane one last time, before digging his face deeper into his scarf once the merciless cold and snowfall latched onto his tanned skin.  
  
Sean adjusted his beanie when he heard the pilot announce their arrival, and reached down for his duffle bag. Once the plane touched the ground, and the passengers were given their okay to unfasten their seat belts, the tall figure climbed out of his chair and threw his luggage over his bony shoulder. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the stranger that had kept him company throughout those dreadful hours, had fallen asleep - and still slept like a log. He leaned down over the empty chair that belonged to him and gently reached out for the man's arm. Once, twice, thrice, he had shaken the man's slender, in a leather sleeve confined arm, up until the point he had opened his grey eyes and looked around sleepily. He quickly recognised Sean's faded green locks and regained his posture, recovering from his slumped over posture. Sean nodded one last time before exiting the means of transportation. And once outside, the first thing he noticed was the lack of both the blinding whites of snow and the accompanying cold.   
  
Mark looked at the given address displayed on the screen of his phone, before glancing up at said apartmentbuilding. He closed his eyes and drew a breath, then re-opened them again to breath out again. It was now or never, he had traveled all this distance, spent countless of hours on a crowded plane - all for him. He nodded at himself, fists clenched, taking careful steps up the small stairs leading to the entrance door. Fate had it that a young woman came rushing out the front doors, only for her to come to a sudden stop when she noticed Mark. She stared at him for a few seconds before walking down towards him. " 're Ye looking for someone?" Mark looked up in surprise, laughing nervously as he was taken by surprise and her surprisingly thick Irish accent. "Jack." He shook his head when he saw the girl frown slightly. "Sean. McLoughlin. Sean McLoughlin. Loud and proud Irish guy with green hair." The girl looked at Mark for a few more seconds before breaking into laughter. Moments later she shook her head with an apologetic giggle. "Well, if ye 'r' looking for a loud and proud Irish man, I suggest ye visit some pubs around 'ere." She then glanced back at the entrance doors and the line of lit-up doorbells on the wall. "Green hair, ye say?" She smiled again. "I recently moved in 'ere, so I'm not yet accquainted with 't tennants. But ye could check t' doorbells, if he lives 'ere, ye'll find 's name there, don't ye think?" Mark nodded mutely. "Anyway, I gotta run. I'm meeting up with me loverboy. Good luck in yer search, lad!" Mark just stood there. Watching her dash off, following her as she ran down the street, and then turned back to look at the apartmentbuilding. It was now or never.  
  
Sean put his phone away, sucking in a motivating puff of air, then walked up the driveway. The grass looked surprisingly green, some stray toys were sprawled on the front lawn and driveway. The blinds were shut tightly and not even the faintest ray of light seaped through. Internal alarmbells rose within Sean, yet he continued until he was standing at the front door. He brought a shaky finger up to the doorbell, listening closely as the chirping sound resounded through the house. After a few minutes had passed, Sean realised the house was left deserted. His heartbeat increased and he felt like kicking himself in the shins. Unknowing of what to do next, he walked up to the front of the house and seated himself on the mailbox. And he had sat there for a good 15 minutes, going through his own stupidity in his mind, rubbing his face countless times and pulling on his own hair in punishment - that's when the neighboring house's garage opened and a woman came outside. She was about to step into her car, when she noticed Sean's hunched frame sitting on the mailbox and peaked over the hedges seperating both houses. "Sweetie, are you waiting for someone? Because I don't think anyone will be home for a while." Sean jumped down and walked over the hedges. "I'm here for my friend, Mark. Do you have any idea where he might has gone off 'ta?" The woman shook her head with an apologetic smile. "I saw him leave this morning with some luggage. I thought he might be going to some kind of convention again." Sean's brows dropped down and he groaned in aggrevation. The woman threw her keys into her purse and nodded at the defeated Irishman. "You can come inside to warm up a little, if you'd like. And try to get a hold of him.."  
  
"Sean!"  
  
"Where t' effin' blazin' are ye?"  
  
"That's my question exactly! I'm standing at your door! Well, not exactly at your door, I'm standing outside of your apartment complex and there's no-one here! Where the fuck are you?!"  
  
"I'm sitting in your neighbor's livingroom! Yer house is empty as your nugget!"  
  
"You're.. at my house?"  
  
"Yes, I am! Wait .. Yer at my apartment?"  
  
A moment of silence returned as both men realised their error.   
  
"You came down to LA for me?"  
  
"I did. I wanted to surprise you. Why did you go t' Ireland?"  
  
"For the same stupid reason! Good Christ on a bicycle.."  
  
"We're idiots."  
  
"Sure are."  
  
"But it's still sweet of you.."  
  
"That's nice and all, but what do we do about this?"  
  
"I don't know.."  
  
Mark groaned. "Stay put. I'm gonna give Ryan a call and have him come down there as soon as possible. Stay in the house and I'll try to hop on the first plane back to LA."  
  
"But .. Where are ye gonna spend the night? It's cold as fu.." Sean glanced over at the blonde woman moving around in the kitchen. "It's cold in Ireland.."  
  
"Don't worry too much about that, I'll try to find a hotel or motel or something for the night. I'll be there as soon as I can be, alright?"  
  
"Aye.."  
  
"Alright. I love you."  
  
"I love ye too, ye doof."  


	10. A Distinguishing Shell | Septiplier

The streets were crowded, flickering lights illuminating the surrounding areas with a warm and inviting glow. Laughing children running around, their footsteps echoing on the concrete. The enticing smell of food spreading and filling the air. Mark readjusted his beanie, his eyes wandering through and across the heap of people and smiling faces. The cold breeze brushed past his bare fingers, coloring the skin in a soft shade of red. Curled around a can of Coke, the bright red color of the casing reflected on the glass kept to protect the food and beverages from grabby hands. He kept close to the food stand, the black fabric of his winter coat resting against one of the small decorative christmas trees displayed on the counter. The needles pricking against the fabric, and the garlands letting go of their bristles, for them to get caught on his sleeve - and shimmer under the occasional flickering lights. Smiling faces passed him, cheers and enthusiasm surrounded him as he stood there by himself, with nothing more than a half-empty can of Coke.   
  
The man smiled sweetly when he noticed the enthusiastic way in which Sean had waved at him from the distance. He laughed when he nearly tripped over his own clumsy feet as he stepped out of the small cart on the ferris wheel. Kenneth glued to his side, his arms held out protectively, in case the bubbly Irishman decided to hand gravity its victory. Certain faces turned to inspect the sudden increase in sound as Sean hastily ran toward the Korean man, his face rounded around the cheeks and his nose slightly colored red due to the cold - all the while Kenneth casually sauntered behind him, his hands buried in the pockets of his dark jeans, covered slightly by the edge of his navy blue jacket. Mark absorbed the blissful expression on the Irishman's face, feeling a warm feeling spread through his limbs. When his eyes met the younger man's lighter ones, he smiled instinctively. He listened to him speak about how much he was enjoying himself, and though he heard each and every word, Mark had to admit he had been mesmerized by his innocence, and the light that shone in the man's eyes. Kenneth noticed Mark's enticed state of mind and nudged the man's shoulder playfully. Mark simply chuckled at his own sillyness, and brought his drink back up to his lips.  
  
Sean returned to join the conversation a little later. Now his back was turned to the very food stand Mark had told him he'd wait. It beat Sean why Mark rejected their offer to join him on the ferris wheel, but he paid it no mind. It was Mark's decision, and it did not yet mean the downfal of humanity. He zipped up his backpack, carelessly tossing it behind his shoulders and hooked his finger in the opening in the can's tab. The hissing sound of compressed air leaving the beverage, caught the American-Korean man's attention, and he turned to look at the green-haired individual opening his freshly bought can of Pepsi. He watched in silence as Sean brought the can up to his lips and took an impressive gulp. Kenneth stood a little further, a big slice of pizza held in both of his hands, the point aimed at his welcoming mouth. The younger male flashed a big smile when he caught Mark's dark eyes linked with his own, and he brought his arm up to wipe the wet patches around his mouth. He hooked his arm with Mark's, happily dragging him along and toward the wooden bench where Kenneth had seated himself and his pizza. The blue can was placed on the table top, now resting next to Mark's red one. Two primary colors, both part of the same color pallet, yet representing a different side.  
  
Mark eyed both cans intensively, attentively. Sean was nibbeling on a currywurst, his cheeks rounded and his eyes closed gleesome as he enjoyed this small snack. Yet despite the adorable sight on display, Mark's eyes kept trailing back toward the two cans of soda standing in front of them on the table. One a bright red, the other a faded blue. One warm and inviting, the other cold and calculated. Kenneth seemingly lost in his own world with the new love of his life, that very slice of pizza that was eagerly shoved into his mouth cavity. A number of teens walked past the table, some eyes noticably cautious as they locked with Mark. And he just sat there, eyes pleading that they wouldn't make attempts to get his picture or autograph - in which he seemingly succeeded as the eyes unlocked and moved on. Sean giggling made Mark turn his head, and he saw the Irishman wipe a dot of ketchup from the wooden table with a napkin. Mark smiled as he shook his head.  
  
"Say, Sean?"  
  
A pair of blue eyes found his own, and the man nodded in response - all the while licking the sause from his fingers.   
  
"Why Pepsi?"  
  
Sean froze at the spot. The sausage hovering above the table top as his arm remained motionless. His forehead crumbling a little, shortly after followed by the rise and downfall of his bushy brows. He turned his head to look into Mark's gentle eyes.  
  
"Why Coke?"  
  
Mark attempted to maintain his posture, yet despite his efforts, the corners of his mouth tickled. The man shrugged his shoulders, his head shaken to add to the insult.   
  
"Why green?"  
  
Sean looked past the flickering lights blaring behind the Korean's frame, trying to not give into the idea of how huggable the older man looked in the glow of those decorative Christmas lights.   
  
"Why red?"  
  
Mark pressed his lips together when he felt a smile crawl onto his lips. He averted his eyes for a split second, then reached for Sean's smaller hand under the table. Their fingertips gently brushing against one another, the body heath of both men transported and moving in between them. Sean smiled gingerly, and dropped his other arm onto the table top.   
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Because you are everything I am not."   
  
Mark picked up his red can of Coke and brought it up into the air, motioning Sean to do the same. For a moment both cans floated in the air, while both men refused to break eye contact. They crashed the cans into each other, intertwining their arms, and took a sip of each other's drink. Upon retreating, Mark smiled lovingly.  
  
"So different, yet similar at the same time."  
  
Sean nodded. "All that distinguishes us, is our shell. But underneath that shell, we are all the same."   
  
Mark turned his head from the right to the left quickly, before leaning into Sean once the coast seemed to be clear. "You complete me, buddy." And with the taste of those sweet words lingering on his lips, he closed the gap between them. Instinctively, Sean closed his eyes and lost himself in that sugar-ridden kiss. As short lived as it might be, he could have sworn he tasted the sweet taste of Mark's heart on his tongue.


	11. I've noticed you | Septiplier

He always sits by the window. He arrives about 30 minutes after me. Always dressed in thick winter attire, and his red hair messily falling into his face. He hangs his coat over the backrest of the chair, rolls his scarf up to a little ball and places it on the table. His order is always the same, a black coffee and a baguette with cheese, martino, and vegetables. He is always greeted and served by the same barista, Amber, I believe her name was. A short blonde, with an impressive pair of sky blue eyes. She makes pathetic attempts at getting his attention centered on her, but it never really turns out that way. Upon greeting him as he walks through those doors, she flashes him a wide smile. Once he has seated himself at his usual table, she whispers to the girl working in the kitchen. Her name remains a mystery, but what I do know is that she'd a redhead with little to no patience for Amber's stories. She'll give him a few minutes to get settled, and as soon as a book comes into her line of sight, she goes in for the kill.  
  
She always compliments him on his love for literature - I think I even heard her say what a shame it was that people no longer showed any interest in a good book. He usually only nods and continues reading as she takes his order. I don't know what happens in that kitchen after Amber gives them his order, but within minutes his food and drink are prepared and ready to leave the kitchen. Amber will lean in a little when she puts down the tray and lowers the plate on the table. He then closes his book and straightens his back, his chair pulled closer to the table, but only up until the red table cloth reaches his knees. The cup of coffee then follows. And as long as I've come to this place, I've always known Amber to struggle with holding onto plates steadily. The cup will wobble and the coffee would most likely spill over the edges, leaving dark circles on the plate. He always offers to help her, and that's her cue to cup his hands with her smaller ones. It always cracks me up to see him flinch and retract his hands.  
  
Today he seemed to be running late. My coffee had already cooled down, but despite my attempts to attract Amber's attention, the blonde kept yapping away with another female customer, standing at the counter. Eventually I lost interest and patience. I reached behind me and pulled my coat over my shoulders. It was then that  Amber's head shot up, and my immediate reaction was to check the entrance doors. There he was. But this time he wasn't by his usual lonesome self. There was a girl with him - a pretty one from what I could tell. Slender, long black hair and a cute face - Asian, just like him. Amber's eyes could have killed if she continued burning holes through that girl's poor back. He sent her an almost venomous smile, and pulled his companion's chair back, like only a polite gentleman would. This I didn't want to miss, so I slumped back into my chair - already unbuttoning my coat.  
  
It must have been around 5 when he and his lovely friend decided to call it a day. They got up, and simply left. Amber on the other hand was ready to sink through the floor in annoyance, and I must say, it amused me greatly. With this show coming to such an abrupt end, I decided to follow their example. I got up, threw a five on the table and made my way past the many tables, only to come to a sudden stop at their table. His usual spot near the window. There it was - a book. Lonely and forgotten, centered on the table, surrounded by empty cups and plates, and a candle that had burned out. I turned back to glance over at where Amber was standing, but she didn't seem to have noticed. As quickly as I could, I reached down and shoved it under my coat. Next, I walked over to the cash register and tapped it with my hand. Amber shot me a venomous glance before walking over to me.  
  
"Can I talk to the girl that works in the kitchen, please?"  
  
Amber's eyes widened momentarily. "Was there a problem with your food?"  
  
"I just want to ask her something. So, if you don't mind.." I gestured at the swing door leading to the kitchen and chuckled when Amber turned around with a groan, for her small frame to disappear behind said door. I stood there for a few minutes, taking in the view on the little coffee shop and its customers.   
  
"I understand you wished to talk to me?"  
  
I turned around and was met by a pair of tired, emerald eyes, and a head of auburn hair peaking from the rim of her black cap. I leaned closer to the counter, the palms of my hands resting on the top. "I wanted to ask you for a favor." The girl raised an eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless. "You know the person that sits at that table over there, right?" I pointed at the table near the window, and she nodded yet again. "That person forgot his book. I want to take it with me, so I can return it to him. I want to rob Amber of her chance to make another pitiful move on the poor bastard." The girl chuckled and shook her head in approval. "I'm gonna write my number down, and I'd like you to give it to him as soon as he walks through those doors tomorrow. Just tell him that I got his book and he should contact me. I'll be here as soon as possible, okay?"  
  
  
The girl nodded one final time before accepting the piece of paper I handed over, then returned to the kitchen.  
  
\- - -   
  
I awoke to the sound of my cellphone. And fate had it that I left that miserable thing on my desk in my office. Grumbling and groaning, I kicked my blanket off of me, for me to sit upright and rub the sleep from my eyes. Lica roused from her slumber, and pressed her little nose through the bars of her cage. I never understood how my ex-girlfriend managed to talk me into buying a hamster, but here she was. And I had her for a solid 3 years, which meant this little critter was bound to end up dead anytime soon. My socked feet found the hardwood floor and I was ready to stand upright, when the sudden sound ended. I mumbled under my breath, rushing toward my office, only to find an unknown caller ID flashing on my phone's screen. I sighed once more and dropped myself in my leather desk chair. My fingers combing through my short cropped hair, eyes closed and ready to doze off again, only for the horrendous sound to return and make me jump up.   
  
Again an unknown caller ID.  
  
"Hello?" I spoke in a yawn, immediately regretting handing a random kitchen employee my personal number.  
  
"I'm sorry for calling you this early in the morning, but I understand that you have kidnapped my reading material."  
  
I blinked a few times then it all came together. The window-sitter had quite a soothing voice, I must say.  
"You forgot it yesterday. I understand, though. You were probably in a hurry to spend some private time with the misses."  
  
The stranger laughed softly. "That wasn't my girlfriend. But .. How do you know I was with a girl yesterday?  
  
Busted.  
  
"I don't think you've ever noticed me, but I sit near the fireplace in the back. I've noticed you prefer sitting near the window. But wait, before you say anything, I'm not some kind of creep. Really.. We just happen to go to that coffee shop at the exact same time."   
  
"I think I have an idea of who you might be then. Irish coffee, blueberry muffin?"  
  
"Exactly. Wait .. You know my daily order by heart?"  
  
"I might be nose deep in books all the time, I am very aware of my surroundings and I hear more than I like."  
  
I smiled. "Anyway, I have your book captive. If you want it back, give me a time and I'll meet you at the coffee  
shop."   
  
"Duly noted. Thanks for taking it with you, it's one of my favorites. Oh, and by the by, that wasn't my girlfriend. That was my lovely sister. I'm sorta frightened by that blonde waitress.."  


	12. Coffee and a Bagel | Septiplier

My mother used to tell me that whenever I'm at a loss, I should take a moment to close my eyes and collect my thoughts - then I would find the answer. And in the past it has worked on a few occasions..  
  
"Sir? Sir..? SIR!"   
  
I snapped out of my trance, turning my head from the left to the right in a confused state - only to find some agitated faces, with the exception of a few muffled giggles and eye rolls. The woman at the counter cocked her head sideways, half-heartedly nodding toward a large cup of coffee and a brown bag, that I could only assume contained my extra-sugared bagel. I hunched my back a little when I shuffled fotward, doing my absolute best to avoid any direct eye contact with the blonde barista. And to add insult to injury, the clumsiness that I was gifted with at birth decided to show its ugly head - causing me to lose the grip on my wallet, and knock over the cup of coffee as I got back up. I wanted nothing more than for Satan to open up a portal to Hell underneath me, and for him to grab me by the ankles to drag me down with him. The barista breathed out an agitated groan, before signaling one of her colleagues to bring a rag or towel from the kitchen. The line of customers that had only grown in the meantime, had little to no trouble expressing their annoyance and displeasure with this entire ordeal.   
  
"Please be seated while we fetch you a new cup of coffee, sir." The blond spoke between gritted teeth, and followed the motion with her arm pointed toward one of the tables near the back. If I had a tail, I assure you it'd hang between my legs the moment I drooped toward the tables located near the entrance. Once seated, I grabbed two fists full of green hair, struggling to keep myself from kicking myself in the shins - that is if that was anatomically possible, but I'm sure that either of the people in the cue were more than willing to do this for me. I glanced back at the counter occasionally upon noticing that the cue was thinning, and caught a glimpse of an Asian-looking male operating a large machine on the left side, near the kitchen doors. The moment he placed the lit on the cup, he met my eyes, and I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline course through my veins - causing me to jump up and hit the table top with my knees. He just smiled and placed the cup on the counter, nudging the blonde woman on the shoulder. When she aimed her gaze at me, I quickly averted my eyes - I had already messed up her day enough as it was, I didn't need her judgemental eyes boring holes through my skull. Thus, I figured I might as well check some of the people I was following on Twitter - not that I cared much about their meals or the adventures their pets went on while they weren't home, it was something ..  
  
"Sir?"  
  
I nearly jumped out of my seat for a second time, almost drop kicking a nearby chair across the room and ready to fling my phone at the unexpected source of sound. A low base chuckle brought me back to reality, and upon turning my head to trace the source, I was greeted by a familiar pair of almond shaped eyes, and a pair of lips sporting a sympathetic smile.   
  
"Your coffee."   
  
The man placed the cup on the table, then opened his mouth as he seemed to had experienced a sudden epiphany. "And your bagel of course." He bent down again and neatly placed the brown bag next to my cup. Before straightening his back, he leaned in closer with an expression lacing his face, that I had never seen before. "It's on me. Cathy is a bitch anyway, so don't worry about it." Without me noticing it, my cheeks had colored into a vibrant red - completely unaware that I, myself, had leaned in closer to the male barista. "...  _Bitch?_ " The Asian man displayed the very same gentle smile, then nodded. "You're lucky you're cute.. And that your order isn't especially  _pricey_." And with that he nodded at the cup of coffee that was certainly cooling down before turning around and returning to his place behind the counter.  
  
I reached for the cup, removing the lit when some thick, black lines covering the cardboard wrapper caught my eye. I brought the cup closer to my face, twisting and turning it until the lines were staring right back at me.   
  
 _Mark. 6PM?_  
  
My eyes trailed back to the counter, only to find the blonde barista, Cathy, staring back at me with an expression that promised me war, hell and damnation if I dared to approach her again today. But peering just over and beyond her shoulder, I found a pair of eyes. Gentle, dark, almond shaped eyes, almost encouraging me more to nod. He smiled another sweet smile, before disappearing behind the kitchen doors. And there I was. Sitting at a table with a cup of black coffee, a bagel in a bag, and a date with a stranger..  
  
And the best thing was, I hadn't felt the need to close my eyes for even a moment.


	13. Sweet 'n' Sick | Septiplier

"Wow.. You look even worse than I thought you would.."  
  
Wrapped in a lilac blanket and with a face that could compete with any bedsheet-made ghost, Mark took in the sight of a slender built Irishman. "What a warm and heartfelt greeting.." He scuffed in a hoarse voice, whilst sniffling. "You always know just what to say to make a man feel like he owns the world." A head of faded green hair bounced from the left to the right, followed up by a cheeky smile coloring the man's face. "It's a gift I was blessed with at birth." He spit out, and squeezed his way through the opening between Mark's broad frame and the actual opened door. The wheeled suitcase was placed at the bottom of the staircase, all the while Mark followed suit and ran a crumpled up ball of tissue under his nose. When Sean turned back to face him, he added : Besides, who are you to judge? You're the one that got sick during the summer. Once more, Mark pressed his nose into what remained of the tissue, and combed a number of fingers through his messy and tangled dark hair. "I don't recall asking for an entire colony of bacteria to spend their summer break in my imune system." Clutching the blanket in his hand, Mark then proceeded to shuffle toward the living room, where he threw his body on the couch. "I'm grateful that you wanted to come down here, and that you could make it so quickly." The man adjusted the feather-filled pillow a few times. "I would've asked Tyler, Matt or Ryan to nurse me back to health, but neither of them felt like spending the summer in LA for once." Sniffling again, Mark buried his face in the soft pillow. "Ugh, that light is planting eggs in my brain.. Would you mind lowering the blinds?"   
  
With a few tugs, Sean had easily banished the harsh sunlight from the room, and granted darkness to enter the premisses. "Have you eaten anything yet? You look a little pale." All he received in return was a muffled voice speaking the following words : Yeah, which is probably related to me being sick. The Irishman rolled his eyes at that half-assed attempt at a joke, and rolled up the sleeves of his black long sleeve shirt. "Close to being funny, but no cigar. I'm gonna make you some colcannon with cornered beef brisket." Once a moment of fitting silence had passed, Mark pushed himself up with a groan. "Sean.. Did you not hear me when I said I'm sick?" The Asian-American brought a hand up to his forehead and temple. "Just the mere thought of beef makes my stomach want to do back flips. And for once, I don't support your beloved phrase : flips for days." He said, looking up at the blue-eyed individual, only to find said individual crossing his arms with a chuckle and a subtle shake of the head. "Alright, fine. Something a bit lighter on the stomach then.. How about fried cabbage and sausage?" Moaning in disbelief, Mark dropped back down on his back, gently massaging his temples with his index fingers. "I'm sure I'd be able to paint an exact copy of the Mona Lisa with chunks of that in the ocean of vomit that will follow."   
  
Sean blinked a few times, as his train of thoughts was running thin. "A Dublin coddle?"  
  
"Sean.. For crying out loud.." Mark groaned, covering his eyes with his lower arm. "I know you mean well, and I'm positive that those Irish dishes would be absolutely delicious in any other circumstance, but right now, I think I'd be fine with eating the phlegm that my body is producing in mass as we speak."   
  
The Irishman's face contorted, and his thick eyebrows crumpled the surrounding skin of his brow. "Dude .. Okay, okay. Do you think you'd be able to hold back some greens?" A pair of blue eyes met with a darker pair. "Salads and green beans. Healthy foods.." Mark showed another unbelieving shake of the head. "I didn't think the American dialect differed that much from the Irish one. Could you tell me how one says 'I am fucking sick!' in Irish?" The subtle undertone of aggravation was duly noted by the green haired man, and the drooping corners of his mouth were a visual sign of his defeat. "Fine.." He breathed in a sigh. "I'll just pop some slices of bread in the toaster." As he neared the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks. "Want me to butter them or are you unable to digest that as well?" The snarky remark however, went unnoticed by the Asian-American. "No, butter is just fine. Just don't let them swim in the butter. They should be kissed by it." Sean made another face. "Kissed by the butt-.." He then decided not to add fuel to this fire and continued his way over to the kitchen. "I'm not even touching that one. You just lay back and let me work my magic in the kitchen."   
  
~~   
  
Carrying the plate of butter-kissed and crunchy toast into the living room, Sean was treated to the sight on a sound a sleep Mark Fischbach. He held his breath as he tiptoed toward the sleeping man, and put the plate down on the wooden coffee table. Then the little devil on his left shoulder told him to bend over the sleeping frame of the dark haired man, and pinch the tip of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Instantly, Mark awoke and his torso bolted in an upward motion, his arms swung around violently, only to frown at a chuckling Irishman. "Goddamn you, Sean.." The man in question bent over the plate of toast. "Breakfast is served, master Fischbach." With an inspecting eye, Mark slid his toned legs over the edge of the couch. "Did you add cinnamon?" He ask, as he leaned forward to take a closer look at the plate that stood in front of him. "Everything tastes better with cinnamon." Sean spoke confidently. "And I added a cup of black tea with a pinch of lemon. Nothing kicks the arse of a sore throat like lemon tea does."   
  
Still sniffling, Mark reached for a slice of toast and sunk his teeth in it. "Thank you for the trouble of fetching me food." He lowered the same slice back down onto the plate, and brought the glass cup up to his lips, before blowing ever so gingerly.   
  
"So .. What do you do for fun around here when you're all alone like this?"   
  
The cup of tea found its way back onto the platter. "I usually try to prepare videos for the week. Or I take Chica and Lego out for extended walks.." Mark then licked his lips, the aftertaste of the bitter lemon still present on his tongue. "Oh, and I recently picked up on rock climbing." Sean sat down next to the Asian-American man. "Like you needed to add more muscle mass to your biceps." Mark chuckled as he nibbled again at the slice of toast. "You could benefit from some extensive workouts. Shape up those skinny noodle limbs of yours." Both men sat in silence, after which Sean leaned back in his seat. "That's probably the best thing that came out of you today." Which sparked a dark eyebrow to arch up next to him. "Thus far." His cackle however, only ended up in a coughing fit, in which Sean aided to his rescue by patting his back. "Damn dude.. For a health-concious guy like yourself, you sound like a veteran chain smoker.."  Mark grabbed a hold of the cup of tea and swiftly brought it near his lips. "Just gimme a few days and I'll be back to my old self. The flue always hits me hard."   
  
"Does it have anything to do with your liver-thingy?"  
"It contributes to it. You know how the liver cleanses the blood from toxins and whatnot? Since mine does only half the work your liver does, it takes me longer to recover from an illness, like the common flue, for example."   
"Meaning.. A few days to you, is actually a week or two."   
  
"Two weeks at max. But usually it's roughly a week of impersonating the living dead." Mark said with a hint of humor lacing his words, and downed the last piece of toast. "Speaking of fetching me food, don't you need to eat?" From his laid back position on the couch, Sean merely shook his head. "I grabbed a bite on the way over. But I will eat something later. I don't think I can thrive on a footlong for what remains of the day." Mark rid his pajama shirt of som stray bread crumbs, deposing of them on the, now, empty plate on the coffee table. "Aw, is the poor baby afraid of possible, but improbable starvation?" He turned toward the green haired man, and pinched his rounded cheeks with an outstretched arm - which was quickly swatted away. "You know where the cupboards, fridge and freezer are. If you're hungry, feel free to cook up a storm." Mark then added. "Mi casa es su casa."   
  
~~  
  
Turning on the television, Sean jumped up as the sound of gunshots filled the room. And to add insult to injury, he had lost his grip on the remove, sending it crashing down on the hardwood coffee table. A sound that couldn't be ignored, and surely wasn't. In a fashion similar to Sean's, Mark bolted up, his spine pressed into the feather-filled head pillow. The lilac colored blanket, made from thick and authentic sheep's wool, slowly sinking down to expose the buttoned up red pajama shirt. He caught Sean in a state that he liked to refer to as ' a deer caught in headlights ', or for more commonly described as 'caught with your hand in the cookie jar', and thus his initial reaction was only this : What did you do? Blue eyes drawn big shifted toward him. "N-nothing!" He spat,  and repositioned the batteries in the television remote resting in his lap. "I dropped the remote.. You can go back to sleep now. I've already lowered the volume."   
  
The Asian-American yawned loudly as he stretched his upper body, only to end up silent as he dropped his head down into the European's lap. "You're a little doof." The warm voice in which Mark had spoken those words, calmed Sean's heightened nervousness within seconds. He brought his hand up to the man's thick mane, and gently tugged one of the tangled strands. "The pot is calling the kettle black." Resulting in Mark emitting a low bass chuckle. He rested the palm of his hand on a pale and slim arm. "Any other time, I would've encouraged you to pull a little harder, but not now. I already feel all kinds of pain.." A pale hand was placed on top of Mark's. "Your hand feels so warm.." The hand was then placed on said man's forehead. "You're burning up.."   
  
"Yeah.." Mark breathed confirming. "I've been running back and forth between freezing and burning up all day." The man looked down at his buttoned up pajama shirt and swiftly unbuttoned it, waving the fabric in an attempt to cool his heated skin. As he retrieved his hand, Sean looked up. "Want me to open a window? Let some fresh air blow in." Rubbing a hand down his torso, Mark breathed out another long-stretched yawn. "Blow me a kiss perhaps?" A shadow loomed over him, signaling him to bring up his hand to keep Sean at a safe distance, and finish it off with caressing the man's cheek instead. "You'll get sick, silly."   
  
"I don't mind that."  
  
"I know you don't, but I don't want to think about you suffering. Let alone actually having to witness that." Mark flashed a gentle smile.   
"Save it for the end of the week. I'll make it worth the wait."


	14. Nice Kitty .. | Antiseptiplier

He watched from a distance. Arms folded and pressed against his chest. It all seemed nonlogical and unfamiliar. No matter how much thought he gave it, it never seemed to make anymore sense. He turned to the right, there he found Antiseptic and Darkiplier clawing at the remains of some kind of winged creature. Their black claws ripping shreds off the little critter, painting their digits in a dark red. Tiny feathers were thrown about in the grassy patches surrounding them. Perhaps it was still new to him and all he truly needed was time to adjust. Then again, demonic beings that surface from the pits of Hell themselves, or simply inner demons for a lack of a better description aside, snatching a living creature out of its territory, only to toy with it as it is still struggling to stay alive - isn't exactly a healthy mental demeanor. Were demons able to get in touch with their human side, forcing them to stare ethical thinking and morality in the eye? Did they even have a sense or morality? What would they label as unethical in the event they could not?  
  
Dark shifted positions and wiped a bloodied hand across his face, spreading the liquid on the present skin, adding to his, already, unsettling and somewhat terrifying appearance. Pitch black orbs latched onto the blondes pure white ones, and said creature raised an eyebrow in confusion. Some of the feathers stuck to his claw-like fingers, dipped in the blood that was smeared all over them. "Aren't you hungry, Polar?" The deep, beastly growl in which Dark spoke, only added to Polarpewds sense of uneasiness. In a hurried fashion, the blonde shook his head, bringing his hands up as to add to the clarification. The dark haired demon stretched his arms forward, smearing even more blood through his dark hair when he combed some tangled locks back. He grunted at the pawing movement of Antiseptic's hand, and pushed the man back, resulting in a hissing screech and a fluent jump onto a nearby tree branch. As Dark scanned his surroundings, he noticed the small brown colored feather sticking on his left cheek, and quickly clawed it off. From his safe spot in the tree, Antiseptic giggled softly, earning him a deathly glare from the other man. This all seemed to quite amusing to the single-eyed demon.  
  
Polarpewds took a few steps back and dropped down into the grass. He caressed the edges with his fingertips, faintly remembering playing in the woods with his siblings and friends as a small kid. And he felt grateful that he had maintained the memories of his human self upon his take-over. Not that he even wanted his human self to become his host, it just sort of .. happened. He surely lacked the inhumane personalities his demonic 'friends' possessed, and in this new world he was supposed to call home, he wasn't sure whether that was either a good thing or a desired trait. Demons would much rather erase as much about their human self as possible, and the sooner the better. Darkiplier being the more skilled one, Antiseptic was a decent runner up, but if observed, clearly still showed some human characteristics. Minor appearances, yet they were present. Much to the displeasure and contempt of his dark haired peer.   
  
The grass rustled upon Antiseptic's landing, and Polarpewds tensed up almost instantly. It wasn't that Antiseptic was an intimidating persona per se, but he was considered to be in Dark's inner circle - which meant: Lay one finger on him, and Dark wouldn't hesitate to rip out your tongue and make you eat it. Or he'd eat it, and then move on to your eyeballs, or testicles. Dark liked balls.. Anything circular in shape, really. Come to think of it, Polarpewds had yet to figure out whatever happened to Antiseptic's other eye. In a weird turn of events, his human self had kept this eyeball as a pet of some sorts .. As disturbing as that may seem. Yet the lack of one eye, gave Antiseptic a certain look. You'd expect a person missing an eyeball to be more disturbing than a muscular guy just waiting to feast on your insides, but you'd be wrong. Darkiplier obviously had given in to his demonic self, and therefore his animal instincts completely. Antiseptic was just .. a demon missing an eyeball. Not too nightmare inducing.. If you look past that gaping hole in his face. I mean, an empty eye socket isn't the most pleasant to look at, but if I had to chose between that or a man eating a living animal, I'd say Antiseptic is more likely to receive an approving hug.  
  
"You have to eat, Polar. If you don't, you'll get hungry.." Antiseptic licked some of the remaining blood from his hands and wiped his balled fists over his ear. Could it be that cats were his spirit animals or something .. ? Hissing, pawing, clawing, rubbing his hands over his ears, jumping impressively large distances with ease.. Sure adds up.  "And being hungry usually ends up with a grumpy demon. You don't want that." He nodded at Dark, who was still nibbling away at the bloody mess of feathers that was once an actual living and breathing creature.  "He's grumpy by default. A real party pooper, and I don't even pester him that much. You don't want to be like him." Polarpewds clenched his jaw, shifting his gaze from Antiseptic to Darkiplier and back. "I'm not yet.. ready to .. kill animals. And eat them." He averted his gaze, fixing his white irises on the grassy patches near his feet. Antiseptic grinned into his fist, then nudged his head against PolarPewd's shoulder, where he kept his head for a moment, before dropping it down in the blonde demon's lap. "That's alright. No hard feelings. I guess you could eat grass and such.. Just don't tell Darkie. He might get upset, is all." Polarpewds was about to look up to cast a short glace at the dark haired demon, when he realized he was no longer at his usual position. He turned back to look at Antiseptic, when a pair of large hands grabbed him by the shoulders. The blonde experienced a huge force, and for a second he was airborne as he was swung through the air. His ribcage cashed most of the impact when his body hit the ground with a smack.   
  
Opening his eyes, all the while coughing, the blonde saw Dark slowly approach him. And he didn't look all too pleased, but why ..? Antiseptic climbed the broad man's back, placing a hand on each side of his wide shoulders, and sunk his sharp teeth in one of his ears. Dark just swatted, which got Antiseptic in a playful mood, as he pawed at the man's big hands.   
"Stop that, you cat bitch!" Dark spat in a low voice, that soon thereafter changed into a soft chuckle. Seizing the opportunity, Polarpewds climbed back onto his feet, observing the event on display from a safer distance. Antiseptic flicked his tonge across the dark haired demon's ear, dipping it in his concha.  
  
"Stop that.." Dark tried again, struggling to keep a straight face. "I'm serious, Anti. I'll fucking rip your tongue out of your skull!"   
  
Another playful lick, after which he had pushed Darkiplier face first into the grassy patches. As the man struggled to get back up, Antiseptic had seated himself on the man's lower back, simply returning to licking the back of his hand in peace.  
  
And Polarpewds just sat there. As utterly confused and lost as ever. But one thing he knew for sure: It'd take a long ass time to adjust to this demon world and the creatures that inhabited it.  


	15. Remember us | Septiplier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is free for interpretation. This could be written by Sean, or Mark. Whichever you like best.  
> This could be a letter written after the events of Ya Big Doof, or any other occasion..
> 
> Song that inspired me : Ricordati Di Noi - Valerio Scanu (The title means something along the lines of, 'do you remember us?' or 'I remember us' )
> 
> :bulletblack: English is not my first languge. I'm very European.  
> :bulletgreen: This is fanfiction. Inefficiency of details is inevitable.
> 
>  
> 
> __________________________________________________________________  
> Thank you for reading, leaving comments & even clicking that 'favorite' button!   
> __________________________________________________________________

Have I ever sat down to tell you how much of an impact you have had, on not only my growth as a person, but also the general flow and approach to my very life? Our paths might have split and thrown us in another direction entirely, the footprints that are embedded in the soil, are easily traced back. Though the outcome of that path may only be accessible through the attachment our hearts and souls that keep us connected on the opposite paths. Even if this means I have to raise my voice a little, for me to be heard by you, I'll always find peace and rejoice in the idea that you are still able to listen. Every once in a while I look back at the sneakers I wore when we both walked that path, I can't bring myself to it to rid them of the soil, nor to rid myself of the memories that have latched onto the worn soles. My trusty umbrella surely has failed to keep me dry from the fall of plenty of tears, yet it kept us dry when there was no need for those in the first place. Which is why I've kept it around after all this time, because it serves as a direct reminder that rather than keeping me dry from inevitable tears, it kept us dry during moments of intense happiness. My heart still leaps upon the mentioning of your voice, even though it has lost some of its meaning by now. Not only has my idea on the name gotten an update, it will never lessen the intensity of the flock of butterflies that heartily gnawed on my insides upon hearing it. In the end it is just a name, a combination of letters that serves no other purpose than identifying a face and personality from a crowd, but to me it holds meaning beyond mere definitions.   
  
Have I ever elaborated on the feelings that I discovered during the time spent together, not only in my knowledge of familiar emotions, but also my definition and understanding of new experiences? In my short time on this earth, I had settled with the basket of emotions that were handed to me a birth. These only gained meaning the more these were presented and pressured onto me, during my growth process. Not only have I learned so much more about what I can feel, but I was also blessed with the ability to learn and gain from these very emotions that I have felt back then. Some more pleasant than others, but equally as memorable - as they bound us and enforced the completion of who we were at the time, but also who we have become during and after our encounters. Over the years my heart might have collected a layer of thick dust, and it might need to be jump started when called for, but it still functions perfectly as far as I can tell. You'd think I'd eventually gave in and fall under the recurring stress and losses, but despite the fact that it's covered scars comparable to a map, it refuses to settle and render itself useless. Granted, after adjusting itself to the beat of your heart for so long .. That's why I mentioned the jumper cables. The thing got a little confused after such a sudden departure, and adjustment isn't that easy to simply jump into.. It was due to you that I learned about the importance of loving your fellow man, and the practice of giving an equal amount of what I receive. Though it might sound a little sheepish, you ensured my growth as a person, and for that I cannot thank you enough.  
  
What holds most importance to me, is our inability to rouse resentment toward each other, nor the actions we participated in, nor the questionable decisions we made that caused us to eventually end up here. I guess in the beginning, we both must've felt a little stranded.. Understandable, and most relatable, if you ask me. What matters most to me is that I can recollect these memories and cherish them with a sincere feeling of integrity, rather than sulk over a loss that cannot be retrieved. What holds most importance to me, is that we are able to remember what has brought us together, connected us, and eventually drove us apart, regardless of what fueled us to do so. So, in closing ..  
  
I hope you are able to remember us.


	16. Connected | SeptiePie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Pewdiepie / Jacksepticeye ship. Because that's original.  
> I don't know if this ship has an actual name, it probably does - and no, I'm not calling it Jelix.. That name is just dumb.  
> So I baptize this ship as : Septiepie -- Yes, I, The princess of cute, warm feeling giving one shots has spoken.
> 
> Also, yeah, I used the same instrumental music to inspire me, that I used in my BroKen one shot.  
> I'm too lazy to actually look up the URL to it, so just .. check the description of that one shot.
> 
> English is not my first language. I'm very European.  
> This is a fanfiction. Inefficiency of details is inevitable.
> 
> _________________________________________________________________________  
> Thank you so much for reading, leaving comments & even clicking that 'favorite' button!  
> ________________________________________________________________________

Sean swatted his hand wildly, unknowing of where the limb might end up or how big of an impact it would leave all together - All he cared about was ridding himself of the gust of air that blew right past his left ear, and followed the sharp angle down to his neck. He intended on keeping his eyes closed, as his lips had already parted - merely to voice a slightly annoyed grunt. His ears picked up the soft, yet somehow playful chuckle that originated from the other end of the sofa. Fingertips trailed down the exposed skin on his arms, following the curved line running from his bicep all the way down to the back of his hand. That's where they rested for a moment, until they caressed the soft patch of skin there, to eventually end up following the edges of Sean's knuckles. The Irishman cracked one eye open, fixing his blurred gaze on the hand engulfing his own, and took in the warmth that was emitted. He turned his upper body, knees pressed up and socked feet pushing against a pair of slender ties. A second pair of digits were gently combed through his tangled green locks, pushing them back with the intention of exposing more of that face he so dearly loved. Sean flinched at the touch, now aiming his gaze at a familiar face inching away from him. His held hand was carefully pushed back against the head pillow, allowing the blonde more access, and mobility in his actions.   
  
Sean pressed his back deeper into the couch cushions, granting Felix more access. The Swede eagerly pinned his right knee between Sean's side and the back rest of the sofa - leaning in to the extend that his chest was almost touching Sean's. Two identically colored pairs of eyes found each other, upon both men smiled and felt a flock of butterflies flutter their tiny, colorful wings vigorously, touching their insides ever so gingerly, yet fiercely at the same time. Felix pressed forward, touching the tip of Sean's rounded nose with his own - eyes closed for only a handful of seconds, before both men locked eyes again. Sean tightened the grip he had on the Swede's hand, bringing his other hand up to run his fingers through said man's blonde hair. Upon seeing the man's content reaction and relaxed state, the Irishman allowed his hand to glide down, where it remained on the other's cheek. With a soft cat-like nudge, Felix relaxed in the man's touch - soft strands of blonde hair falling down and tickling the back of Sean's opened hand. He snickered as he retracted his hand and let it limply fall down between the small space of the sofa's back rest and his side - his fingers brushing against Felix' knee in the process.   
  
Following his instinct, the Swede leaned in some more, the tip of his nose now brushing against the Irishman's cheekbone - which caused him to emit a soft chuckle that died down to a soft whimper when he felt a pair of lips softly wipe over his upper lip. Blue eyes fluttered shut, the long lashes tickling the flustered skin of Felix' nose bridge. As his grip on the blonde man's hand lessened, he loosened the tight clench he held his jaws in, parting his lips slowly. Blue eyes grazed over the sight of the other man's facial expression, and the view on this innocent creature he was blessed with. With utmost care he tried to match their lips by tilting his head, only truly satisfied upon hearing a soft, muffled moan brush against his own mouth. Unaware as to why he clenched both ties around the Irishman's sides, yet set on not letting him go anytime soon. A tongue flicked against his own, and it didn't take him more to give into the shared kiss. After what seemed to have been an eternity, but had only been a few minutes, both men broke apart. Staring into the other's eyes in silence, with a matching smile adorning their lips.   
  
Felix lowered himself, so that his face was resting in the cranny of the Irishman's neck, which is when he dared to close his eyes as he felt an arm being wrapped around his lower back, where it remained put. The soft rhythm of Sean's heartbeat assured him into losing himself in a state of calmness, in which both men ended up drifting off. Locked in each other's embrace, kept warm by the other's body heat, and soothed by the other's presence. A daily ritual, yet one that had gained so much meaning since that fateful meeting. One that would not be easily forgotten, even when attempted to. Two souls brought together, connected by all that which disconnected them from others, and even the world.  


	17. Warm and Fashionable | BroKen

"Remember that old bear hat I used to wear in my older videos?" Felix glanced up from his phone, only to find Ken staring out of the window. His dark eyes darting back and forth between the crowds of people that passed the small cafe, and the occasional passing cars populating the roads. His chin rested in the palm of his hand, and the pressure of carrying that weight caused the elbow that pressed into the plastic table leaf to discolor to a soft shade of red. Felix hesitated for a moment before casually nodding and wiping a few stray strands of honey blonde hair back. "Of course I do. It was your signature item .. Kinda like my bro fist, Jack's antiseptic eyeball and Mark's pink mustache .." The Swede then chuckled under his breath, and brought both hands up to the sides of his face. "And not to mention Cry's iconic mask." He leaned a little further into his position, pushing his slender shoulders up and brought them closer to his neck. The bearded man that sat across from him breathed out a reminiscent smile, before his eyes slid to the corners and he caught a short glimpse of the blonde man and the innocence that laced his very being.  
  
"I want you to have it." He spoke and turned to face his long time friend and colleague. The man let his arm fall back into his lap after combing a set of fingers along the sides of his chin (or beard). Dark pools connected with lighter ones, and Felix couldn't help but feel somewhat overwhelmed at this statement. As he recollected, Kenneth had clearly been overly attached to his infamous and iconic bear hat - going even as far as repeatedly punching Felix in the shoulder or sides for even going near, or as far as placing his little hands on it. As weird as it might be perceived by outsiders, Kenneth would go great lengths to ensure this hat's safety and protection. Granted, the man hadn't actively sported its mascot-like endorsement, neither by wearing or showcasing it in his videos - which got Felix thinking a handful of times about the subtle reasoning behind it losing its meaning. Yet he never mentioned it, nor had he ever brought up its absence for that matter. The Swede leaned back in his seat, his slender arms hugging his abdomen, all the while his blue eyes took in the sight of that faint, nameless smile present on Ken's mouth.  
  
"I don't understand, bro. Why would you part ways with your bear friend? It had kept you warm and fashionable for all those years.." Ken averted his gaze and fixed it on the appalling plastic table cloth that covered most of the cheap, plastic table they were seated at. The surrounding lights bounced off of the material, illuminating the horrible broken white color it held, while casting shadows on the red and green stripes that ran along its length, which were left open to much speculation as to question where the cafe owners got their sense of style to begin with. Or the lack there off, for all it was worth. The bearded man's leg bounced up and down sporadically, almost like a phone left to vibrate until its presence was acknowledged and reciprocated by others. The man took a walk through his collected memories, revisiting the many times that exact hat had attributed to the name tag he so proudly wore in present time. But much like most people that one runs into, mutual paths are bound to split and run into another direction entirely. Pressuring one into parting ways with was once so desired and longed for, but all in the name of personal growth.  
  
Smiling ever so gently, Ken looked into Felix's awaiting blue eyes. The man inched his broad lower arm closer to the smaller hand that rested on the opposite end of the table, sneaking the tips of his fingers in between the others he found there. "Because I have found something else to keep me warm. And unlike bear hats, this never goes out of style." Felix closed the gaps between their fingers, fixing his eyes on the connection shortly, before gazing back up and locking them with Ken's darker ones. A smile spread onto his lips and he nodded. "That couldn't be more true, bro."  


End file.
